


Closed Doors

by writerswrite



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Coming Out, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 12:53:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14521011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerswrite/pseuds/writerswrite
Summary: Neil finds out that while he was concentrated on his game and win, Andrew has been hurt and rushed to the hospital. Without fearing what this will look like to the press, Neil rushes to be by Andrew's side.





	Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> Not that angsty or fluffy, but enjoy! (my first work). (I made some edits).

Even though neither Neil or Andrew ever acknowledged the Josten-Minyard rivalry, it didn’t help that they never denied it either.  


Andrew, being Andrew, never directly said anything to the press about anything, opting instead to stare silently at the reporters until they finally took a hint and ceased asking questions. Neil, on the other hand, never one to shy away from sharing his opinion, was the one who perplexed reporters the most when asked about the “hostile tension” between the two; his silence fanning the coals and assumptions that there truly was a deep hatred running between the two young men, one so deep, that even the outspoken Neil Josten held his tongue.  


After the first year of being berated by the press, they had talked about coming out as a couple, if not just to silent the questions. But they had come to the conclusion that it was their business, no one else's, so they’d stayed silent, ignoring the questions, and that had been that.  


It had been four years since Neil graduated from Palmetto State and eight years of pointedly ignoring press questions about the nature of his rivalry with Andrew Minyard. He’d found it funny at first, then, vaguely irritating, but after years of getting nothing out of the men in question, the Josten-Minyard comments had dwindled down to few and far inbetween. Something Neil had been very grateful for. Now, a normal press conference consisted of what it should have to begin with. Exy, and how well (or not well depending on the game) he and his team had played.  


Which is why Neil was so completely thrown off when a man from an online publication he didn’t recognized stood up in the press conference after Neil’s close win and said, “Neil Josten, you must be very glad of the condition Andrew Minyard is in.”  


“What?” Neil blurted, perplexed.  


“The Hogs won tonight. That means you’re playing Minyard’s team in next week’s finals. Are you not happy your hated rivalry won’t be on the field?”  


Neil knew, of course, he was playing Andrew’s team next week. He could still feel the joy that ran through his veins as he watched the highlights of Andrew’s game, which began an hour before his started, as they showed on repeat the ridiculous save the goalkeeper had made-- a save no one should have been able to stop-- to keep his team in the lead and secure a spot in the finals. He’d immediately shot off a text to Andrew, suggesting a few ways he was planning on celebrating with the goalkeeper once he was done with his obligatory press talk and made it home to their shared apartment before turning his phone on silent and shoving it into the back corner of his bag.  


Still very confused, Neil repeated, “What?”  


“Have you not heard? Andrew Minyard was in a car accident, about 2 hours ago. They’re saying it was a pretty bad one, so the chances of him playing--”  


Neil cut him off as he stood immediately, once again and feeling rather stupid, screaming, “what?!”  


Neil pushed away from the press table and past his teammates, picking up his pace as he went for his bag. Throwing his gear, trainers, all of the contents aside, he finally located his phone and flipped it open.  


3 missed calls from an unknown number.  


4 missed calls from Aaron.  


15 texts, ranging from Matt to Allison to Coach.  


He was already out of the door, fishing his keys out as well as he hit the redial to Aaron.  


“Finally,” came a voice on the other line.  


“What’s happening?” Neil squeezed out, his heart beginning to beat frantically as he ran to his car. “Is he okay?”  


“We don’t know yet, I still haven’t made it to the hospital. I called his coach after the hospital called me and he said he’s in surgery.”  


“Send me the address. I’m on my way.” Neil hung up the phone. A moment later his phone buzzed. Neil knew that hospital. If he drove the speed limit he’d be there in about hour.  


Neil made it in half the time.

When Neil finally got to the hospital, he immediately spotted Andrew’s coach and several of his teammates in the waiting room. They were all wearing their team’s sweatshirt, and all their heads turned towards Neil, perplexed and surprised expressions on their faces, as he walked into the room past them and to the nurse station.  


“Andrew Minyard? Where is he? Can I see him?”  


“Josten?” a low voice said from behind him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” continued the voice at the same time the nurse looked up and asked “What is your relationship to the patient?”  


“I’m his emergency contact,” Neil said, his voice shaking despite himself as he answered the nurse and ignoring whoever was talking behind him.  


“Emergency contact?” The low voice let out an incredulous, gruff laugh. “Is that a sick joke?”  


“Name?” The nurse asked, now peeking behind Neil with her eyes slightly narrowed.  


“Neil Abram Josten.”  


“Ah, yes, Mr. Josten, we’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Mr. Minyard’s brother made it clear it was you who needed to be top priority in reaching out to. Let me see what I can tell you in this moment.”  
The nurse went back to her computer and starting typing. Neil felt a large presence move closer to him.  


“What are you doing here? Emergency contact? You hate each other!”  
Neil turned and saw the face of the low voice. He recognized the man now. Chris Dotson, frontliner for the Hogs. From the way Andrew talked about his teammates, which wasn’t much, Neil knew that Dotson was someone Andrew didn’t mind, which, from Andrew, was a sparkling review.  
Neil ignored him and turned back to the nurse.  


“Mr. Minyard was just taken out of surgery. He’s being moved to the ICU. You should be able to see him soon, if you’d like.”  


“Yes,” Neil breathed. “So he’s alright?”  


“I’ll let the doctor speak with you as soon as she can.”  


Neil nodded and stepped away from the desk.  


Dotson had moved back, but was eyeing him venomously. Neil went to the closet chair and sank into it.  


“What happened?” Neil asked, voice quiet.  


Whether he was expecting someone to answer or not, Neil wasn’t sure, but Dotson heard him and answered, “drunk fan.”  


Neil looked up and stared back at Dotson. Dotson was still eyeing him suspiciously, but continued.  


“Minyard was stopped at the stop sign right after exiting the stadium, just stalled for a moment. I had just pulled up behind him and was about to honk--it looked like he was reading something on his phone--when out of nowhere a truck comes and slams into the side of his car. The driver, he’d been wasted and had fallen asleep at the wheel. I called 9-1-1 and they rushed him here. I don’t know what happened to the driver.”  
Neil took in the information Dotson was telling him, a sinking feeling overwhelming him.  


If Andrew had stopped to read something on his phone, it was most likely the message Neil had sent. Andrew had been distracted by him.  
“Now, want to explain what the fuck you’re doing here? Emergency contact-- is that a joke?”  


Neil tried to ignored Dotson once again. Because of him Andrew was here, hurt. Neil began to stand, his emotions no longer allowing him to sit, in order to move closer to the doors to the ICU to wait for the doctor.  


“Hey,” Dotson said, standing and blocking Neil's way. “What. The fuck. Are you here for?”  


Neil stared at the man in front of him. He easily had a foot on him; Dotson was not a small man. But he could tell from the way he held himself, while this man had strength and size on his side, the only fighting he'd done had been in the name of Exy. If Neil wanted to hurt this man, he easily could.  
Anger surged through him and cleared out every other emotion he felt. Anger that this is who was blocking his way. He wanted to get to Andrew. He wanted the damn doctor to tell him Andrew was alright.  


Dotson must have seen the spark of aggression in his expression because Neil saw the man tense up, waiting for the first strike.  


For the doctor to say Andrew was alright.  


It was at that thought that the anger left Neil as quickly as it came. He didn’t want to fight. We wanted Andrew.  


“We don’t hate each other,” Neil exhaled. “Well, Andrew hates me, most of the time, but we’ve never been rivals. I trust him with my life.” It was all he had in him to share.  


Dotson continued to stare at Neil with a hostile expression, but he let Neil pass this time as he went around him to the doors.  


As Neil paced, back and forth, in front of the ICU doors waiting for the doctor, the waiting room slowly began to fill up, and reporters had started to slip in.  


“Neil Josten?” a man asked.  


“Yes?” Neil replied, stopping his movements and looking up, expecting to see the doctor. Finally.  


“What is your relationship to Andrew Minyard? Rivals? Or more? Why are you waiting here?”  


“Neil!” Came a familiar voice. “We came as soon as we heard,” Matt barreled through the now growing crowd. “Who are you?” He asked to the reporter as he stopped in front of Neil and took in Neil’s guarded stance. “Press? Seriously? Get out of here!”  


The man continued to ask Neil to define his relationship. Frustrated and overwhelmed, Neil almost started yelling at the man until he saw Dan, who he hadn’t seen arrive until then (she must have been hidden behind Matt), ushering hospital security over to clear the room of press.  


“Thank you,” Neil said as she approached him and threw her arms around him.  


“How’s your boy?” she asked. Neil opened his mouth to explain to her. It was my fault, he wanted to say, over and over again. He wanted to share his frustration that he didn’t know what was going on. But he was kept silent as just then a doctor in blue scrubs walked through the ICU doors and called, “Andrew Minyard?”  


“Yes?” Neil said. Moving towards the doctor. “Is he okay?”  


The doctor looked to the nurse still seated at the station. She nodded to the doctor, indicating Neil was okay to speak with.  


“Doctor McGilvery,” she said. “I’m the lead surgeon on Mr. Minyard. He came in with some very server internal injuries due to the force in which his car was hit. He had intensive internal bleeding. We were able to stop the bleeding, and he is in the ICU now. He has three broken ribs, his right arm is broken, as well as his nose, but he will make a full recovery with the help of a little physical therapy.”  


A full recovery. Neil heard the words repeated over and over in his head and he let out a breathe he didn’t know he was holding.  
Some broken bones? They could deal with broken bones.  


Andrew would hate it; would hate having to depend on Neil, even if it was just for a little bit for just a little while, but full recovery. He’d stock the fridge with ice cream and happily deal with Andrew’s sullen moods of his recovery.  


“Thank you,” Neil finally said. “Can I see him?”  


The doctor nodded and stepped aside, prompting Neil to follow her through the double doors into the ICU. 

Neil had expected to see Andrew bandaged up, but he didn’t expect the utter wave of helpness that washed over him as he walked into the room Andrew was resting in.  


He was still asleep from surgery, and there were tubes and IVs running in and out of him. His arm was in a cast and he had tape over the bridge of his nose. His hospital gown was draped over him, but Neil could see that his mid section was wrapped in white tape.  


“He should be waking fairly soon,” the doctor said. “A nurse will be in shortly to check on him, but press that button if you need anything.”  


Neil nodded, not really listening anymore, and he heard the doctor leave.  


Neil went up to the bed and stared down at the outwardly broken man in front of him.  


It was rare that Neil cried, but the urge to do so rose now, whether from relief, fear, regret or anger, he wasn’t sure, but he held his tears back as he pulled the chair from under the window close to Andrew’s bed and laid his hand parallel to where Andrew’s not broken one lay at his side. Close enough to where he could feel the heat from the man next to him, but not touching.  


He adjusted, got comfortable, then waited for Andrew to wake up and give him a yes to move his hand closer. 

Neil must have been more tired than he realized because the next thing he knew he became conscious of a heavy, familiar weight at the back of his neck waking him up.  


Neil slightly pushed against the hand on his neck, leaning into the steady, comforting feel of it, until slowly sitting up and meeting Andrew’s usual, beautiful bored stare.  


Neil’s stare was not bored. Every emotion he had felt since the moment that stupid reporter mentioned Andrew came flying at him all at once, and the tears he pushed back earlier were now threatening once again to escape.  


“110%,” Andrew said, hoarse.  


That made Neil laugh and made him want to cry for a whole different reason, but instead he rolled his eyes and picked up the water cup the nurse had left on the side table.  


He held the cup out to Andrew who took it, pulled the straw out with his teeth and tossed it before gulping down the whole cup in about 3 seconds.  


“Want me to tell the nurse to bring another?” Neil asked, his voice off.  


Andrew stared at him. His face still frozen in his usual bored expression, but his eyes caught Neil’s.  


Andrew put his unbroken hand back by his side, and turned his palm up. Yes or no? was implied.  


Neil stared at the faint scarring on his wrists. Stared at the pale, upturned hand, and noticed the cast and bruising out of the corner of his eyes.  


His fault.  


“I’m okay,” Andrew said, softly, not a whisper, just a muted fact, reading his hesitation for what it was.. “I’m fine,” he added with a smirk.  


Neil nodded, took a breath, and then slipped his hand into Andrew’s.  


They were silent for a moment as Neil took in the sensation of Andrew’s warm hand wrapped up in his. Then, Neil told Andrew what had happened.  


When Neil was done talking, Andrew nodded and squeezed Neil’s hand. “So no finals for me, then.”  


Neil hadn’t even thought of that. Miss the finals? His guilt once again over took him and Andrew rolled his eyes at his reaction.  


“Junkie,” Andrew said. “They’ll be fine without me. There’s always next season. And, I could stand to have some time off.” He leaned back into his pillows, adjusting and getting comfortable around his multiple casts.  


Neil smiled. There would be next season because Andrew was truly okay and he’d be there, next season.  


“So,” Andrew said, a glint in his eye, “what were some of the things you are going to do to me for my win?”  


Neil let out a startled laugh. “Oh,” he said, voice lowering, void of all tears now. He stood, leaning into Andrew, careful not to touch any part of him that was injured and leaned close to whisper in his ear all the things he wanted to do.  


He didn’t let go of his hand. 

Three days in the hospital and then Andrew was getting discharged. Neil had a list of rules to follow for Andrew’s care, and Andrew was already busy ignoring them all.  


The doctors had barely put up with him for the 72 hours he was under their care (he kept trying to sneak cigarettes despite no one knowing where he was getting them from) and were happy to see him go.  


As he wheeled Andrew to the front of the hospital, Dotson, unexpectedly, was waiting for them with the car.  


Dotson had come in to visit Andrew on the second day he was in the hospital. Neil had been asleep in the recliner next to Andrew when he’d first walked in, and he woke up in the middle of their conversation.  


Feeling like he was eavesdropping but refusing to feel guilty about it, Neil had continued to pretend to sleep while he listened to the other men speak.  
The TV in the room could be lightly heard playing Exy reruns, and they had been talking about how the Hawks, the team that had just narrowly made the last spot in the finals, had pulled off their final win. As Neil listened to them talk, he likened the men's relationship to that of Andrew and Wymak. It was respect.  


There was a pause in the conversation. “So,” Dotson said, “this is your Susie then.”  


Andrew scoffed.  


Andrew had, in the brief moments he spoke of his team and Dotson, mentioned that his team had decided he had someone he was hiding and they’d dubbed her Susie. Andrew, of course, had completely ignored them, which in turn made them more eager to know and had, just as the Foxes had, begun to make bets on who would dare to be in a relationship with Andrew Fucking Minyard.  


Neil smiled. He was Andrew’s Susie.  


“Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll follow up with you soon to see when we can get you back to practice.”  


And then he had left.

“Dotson, so soon?” Andrew said as the man approached.  


“I thought you should see this as soon as you could,” he said instead of greeting. “We told off the press members we could find over the past couple of days, but that didn’t exactly stop them,” Dotson said, handing Neil a copy of a recently printed magazine. “Thought you’d want to be warned.”  


Neil took the magazine and looked at it. On the front cover was a photo from last year when Andrew and Neil had played each other. Before the game had started, Neil had walked down to the opposing team’s side of the field right up to Andrew and slammed his helmeted head against the other’s helmeted head.  


In the photo, a great shot really, Andrew had his eyes narrowed, face as impassive as ever. Neil, well, Neil was smiling. But in the context of the shot, it looked like a crazed smile one gives to their enemy before they face off in battle.  


In reality, Andrew had dared Neil to come to his side of the court before the game and see what would happen. Andrew had just said 99% the moment before the photo had been taken.  


“Enemies or Lovers? Exy’s biggest secret finally exposed” the cover read.  


Neil looked at the cover for only a few seconds before tossing it into Andrew’s lap. Andrew scoffed, then pushed the magazine aside before pulling and lighting up a cigarette.  


Whatever happened next, they’d deal with it. Together.  


That’s what was important.


End file.
